


Brooklyn Baby || Stucky

by outofordxr, ProbablyTrash



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, F/M, Fourth of July, M/M, Multi, Peggy is a dog, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-03-22 04:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13756548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofordxr/pseuds/outofordxr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyTrash/pseuds/ProbablyTrash
Summary: Bucky would have never thought that he would meet an angel in a bakery in Brooklyn, yet he did. Steve seems like a mundane, domesticated man, yet he makes everything feel vibrant and new for Bucky. There's nothing new or vibrant about the bakery that Steve is struggling to keep under his family's name. There's nothing special about this story except for two men falling in love through the support they provide one another despite the issues they both encounter.Estimated finishing date: TBDA current WIP of mine. I'm putting my all into this one, so that's why I haven't posted in a long while. I don't want to feel rushed by my own schedule.





	1. Chapter 1

The sweet smell of refrigerated frosting filled Bucky’s nose when he opened the door, akin to that of an ice cream parlor. Above his head a bell chimed to his arrival, allowing the redhead behind the counter an excuse to look up from her icing job on a very large, and very ugly yellow buttercream cake with bright pink balloons protruding from the surface.

Her face seemed to regain ten years as soon as she saw the man, and Bucky felt bad because, well, that was  _ his _ cake. He wasn’t afraid to admit that it was  _ very fucking ugly _ . He smiled with pity and approached the register, watching her set the piping tools down. Her hands were covered in food dye stains and spikes of yellow frosting, yet her well-manicured nails disrupted the chaos. Bucky didn’t think he’d seen such precise fingers playing with dough and icing.

“Can I help you today?” The woman wiped her hands down the front of her apron and smiled, turning to wash her hands at the sink between a shelf of bread baskets, and a refrigerator of cakes.

Bucky watched her tie her hair up into a small ponytail at the base of her skull. The woman--Natasha, as her nametag said now that it was in his line of sight--positioned herself at the cash register. She had a sly curiosity on her face, like a fox, and her lips quirked up in a knowing smile. He leaned on the counter and smiled, “I’m here to pick up the order for Rebecca Barnes. Uh, and can I have a cup of coffee please?”

Natasha nodded and started tapping away at the old register. A lock of red hair fell into her eyes, and Bucky self-consciously ran a hand through his own dark locks. The redhead printed out a receipt, and clucked her tongue while Bucky signed off and paid.

“Room for cream or sugar?” she asked, turning to the small coffee station at the corner of the counter, and pulling a foam Dixie cup down from the shelf above her. Bucky hummed before shooting off a quick  _ nah, I’m good _ .

“Hey, Nat,” a voice quipped from the unfinished cake. “Want me to finish this up for you?”

Natasha turned and glanced at the yellow monster with a grimace. She popped a lid onto the steaming cup and walked it back to Bucky, who watched the exchange with interest. A tall, muscular man stood next to the end of the counter, his blonde hair speckled with flour and his white tee shirt stained with vanilla extract. She pursed her lips and scrunched her nose up before shaking her head.

“I can do it.” She smiles, walking back to her station and glancing at the man, before sighing dramatically and placing her hand on her hip. “Your hands are too clumsy for such detailed work like this, Steve.”

The man, Steve, scoffed and rolled his eyes with an exasperated chuckle. He walked to the refrigerator and opened it to take out a brown paper bag. He glanced at Bucky and smiled softly.

“Well, let me know when you finish so we can get it into the box.” He walked into the dining area. Steve turns and claps a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, holding up the bag. “Hello, Client. You want a sandwich?”

“B’uh… Sure.” Bucky says in confusion. He glanced at Natasha, who was diligently working on his order. Steve led his guest to a corner table next to a window, where pedestrians would walk past with no interest. Bucky sat down in the swiveling, laundromat-style chair, and Steve began pulling plastic wrapped sandwiches from the bag. “My name is Bucky, by the way-- Erm, why’d you pack more than enough?”

“My neighbor, Sam, thinks that my metabolism is too fast.” Steve smiles, pulling a pint sized container of what looked like steamed vegetables. Bucky stared down at the two sandwiches placed in front of them, and nervously started to unwrap one. Steve started unwrapping his own sandwich before he cries out a small  _ wait _ .

Bucky swears that he almost jumps out of his own skin.

“Are you allergic to anything?” Steve frets, eyes big with worry. Bucky relaxes, before snorting out a small laugh. He shakes his head and continues with his mission to get the plastic off his food.

“Just bee stings, and poison ivy,” he smirks, before biting into the sandwich. Hickory smoked ham, on whole grain. “Why? Do you usually try to poison your clients?”

Steve gave a bright, close-mouthed smile while chewing and shook his head. He swallowed and looked up through his bangs. His expression was endearing and Bucky had to admit, he would never expect puppy dog eyes from this absolutely  _ ripped _ man.

“Only if they insult my bread,” Steve nods to the sandwich before taking another bite.

Bucky imagined the guy kneading dough, and had to look away. His face burned slightly mostly because his biceps must look godly when he works out the dough-- _ and man what would a massage from him feel like-- _

“So,” Natasha calls from behind the counter. “What’s the cake for?”

“My sister, Becca, is having a baby shower later today and she can’t do much running around without back pain because she’s gonna end up having triplets.” Bucky says matter-of-factly, thinking of how big his sister has gotten over the past seven months. “Swear, she’s gonna pop.”

“Wow.” Natasha raises her brows, and Steve hums in agreement. Bucky nods and glances up at the clock on the wall, before standing up and hitting his hip on the table. Pain bloomed on the arch of the bone and he hissed.

“Shit, I’m gonna be late!” he dusted crumbs off of his front and Steve immediately got up to help Natasha load the cake into a big white box. “I’m so sorry, lunch was really nice! The shower is in fifteen minutes though and it’s an hour walk to the place--”

“Here,” Steve already started hauling the box out the back door and Bucky followed, absolutely confused with whatever this guy was doing. The back alley was wet and smelled like trash, but Bucky’s senses were obscured as soon as Steve fastened something on his head, a helmet.

The larger man situated the box on a large bus tub held onto the back basket of his motorcycle, by duct tape and bungee cords. Bucky took one look and almost sobbed out of terror--no way did he trust that thing to hold a cake a third the size of a door. He watched Steve swing a leg over the vehicle and sit down.

“I know what you’re thinking, but your sister is pregnant--probably in her third trimester--and wants a cake. We need to go.” Steve waved Bucky over.

He wasn’t gonna argue with that. Becca has a short fuse to begin with, and he made a promise for her. He wasn’t gonna leave her hanging. Even if that cake was  _ fucking ugly _ , Bucky loved his sister too much to ruin it. He also loved his sister too much to be late to her goddamn baby shower, like he was about to be. Bec was gonna have his ass.

Bucky got on the bike, and held on to Steve for dear life.

*

Okay, so Becca didn’t end up murdering Bucky. In fact she was very grateful, and even a little pleasant. Bucky and Steve had booked it up the stairs to her apartment, and knocked on the door. Becca opened it and smiled brightly at her brother, and then lit up when she noticed Steve. The men carried the cake into the dining room--through a thick crowd of mothers chatting amongst themselves, and drinking either water or wine--and carefully loaded it onto the table.

They finally had a break.

Bucky’s sister smiled sweetly and took the moment to hug Steve and him. Bucky was confused as to why she hugged Steve, and Steve was as well. In fact, Bucky assumed that his sister was a little confused as well, but not in the same way.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” she cooed, holding Steve’s hand. “I’m Rebecca--James’ sister. Oh gosh, he didn’t tell me that he had a  _ partner _ .”

She shoots Bucky an aggravated glance and Steve could swear that he heard Bucky suck in a breath. The two boys started stuttering, glancing from each other to Becca, to the cake, and back. Finally, Steve managed to smile in embarrassment and explain the situation.

“No,” he laughed. “See, I baked your cake and I was helping him bring it to you because he was gonna be--”

“Clumsy!” Bucky interjected.  _ No way _ was Becca finding out he was late. “You know a balloon would’ve fallen off had I brought it here on my own, Bec.”

“It’s the truth.” She laughed and nodded before glancing at the rest of her party. The small woman pats Steve’s chest and turns, speaking over her shoulder. “Well, I better continue mingling. It was a pleasure to meet you, Steve. Stay as long as you want!”

Bucky was staring at him with wide eyes, almost like he had just gotten in trouble.

“Wait,” Steve crossed his arms and smiled softly. His next question was kind of expected after an exchange like that. “Are you gay?”

“Depends, are you asking me out?” Bucky responded, stomach tightening as he anticipated some sort of insult. Of all the years he’d lived in Brooklyn, he’d never actually met a gold-star gay like him. He kind of expected a homophobic response. He was gonna punch Becca as soon as she didn’t have tiny humans inside her anymore.

*

Not only was Steve gay, but he was also a huge fucking  _ dork _ . Bucky and Steve’s first date was the night after the baby shower, and they decided to go to a movie. The movie they saw, was some sort of World War II drama. Cliche action and drama elements; boy meets girl on the countryside, and they fall in love, only for the boy to be drafted and go M.I.A. Girl is heartbroken, but ecstatic to see him come home with a non-life-threatening injury, and the movie ends with them getting married. Insert scene of boy telling buddy about his “broad back home” and shoving her picture back into his helmet. Insert another scene of boy and girl telling their grandkids the story.

Steve cried.

Steve cried, but he refused to admit to it. (“I think I got the popcorn salt in my eye.”) Bucky sat back and refused to fall asleep from  _ pure boredom _ . He made sure to let Steve know that he was more of a comedy kind of guy. He felt terrible for potentially hurting Steve’s feelings, but his date took the news very well, however, and offered dinner.

“You can choose where we go, “ Steve smiled sweetly. “It’s on me for putting you through that.”

Bucky thought for a moment and suggested the only thing he could possibly eat with the after-taste of cheap-yet-overpriced theater candy, and over-buttered popcorn. Smiling wholeheartedly, he looks up at Steve like a child, “Ice cream?”

“Sounds good to me!” Steve walks with Bucky out into the cool Brooklyn air. The concrete still held the heat of the summer sun beating down on it, and the sound of cars passing caught Bucky’s attention for a second. Steve was walking very close to Bucky, and that’s what ended up grounding him.

If there was a god, Bucky was sure they were giving him a sign. He slipped his hand into Steve’s and it fit perfectly--Steve didn’t make a move to reject the gesture, and it made Bucky’s heart swell. They walked like that for a while, strolling past Prospect Park, and arriving at the ice cream parlor.

After ordering, they sat down on the curb, and watched the cars pass. Bucky had decided on a lemon cream flavour, that (surprisingly) was delicious. Steve sat next to him, digging into a banana split. His jaw worked slowly around the food, and his blue eyes watched the world with casual content. Bucky just watched his date, out of the corner of his eye, and barely ate.

“If you keep staring at me, your ice cream’ll melt.” Steve smirks, turning to look at Bucky. The shorter man scoffed, and hastily took a huge bite of his ice cream and swallowed it down. He cringed as ice stabbed at his temples and he groaned, glancing up at Steve.

“Ow…”

“Hold on, you’ve got…” Steve trails off, and takes a napkin from under his bowl. Bucky flushed as he knew exactly what was coming: he had ice cream on his face, and Steve was gonna wipe it off for him.

Steve was a  _ huge fucking dork _ .

“So,” Bucky cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes. “How long’ve you worked at the Bakery?”

“Oh, my Nana--my great-grandmother--started it when she moved over here from Ireland.” Steve smiled fondly, twisting his ice cream around his spoon. “Then my dad was born, and his mom died. My Nana took full guardianship over him, but at the same time my Nana was super old fashioned and no matter how much he insisted on helping her, she never let him.

“So, my dad met my mom while he was working at a gas station, and they started dating for a good five or six years. My mom got pregnant, and my dad had joined the police force.” Steve took a deep breath and looked up at the street again. “My dad ended up being fatally injured on a case, and my Nana was on her deathbed. My mom and aunt took over the bakery, and Ma moved in right above the shop.”

“Your family is very admirable.” Bucky smiled sadly, watching in awe as Steve recited his blood history right before him. “You’re mother must be a great woman.”

“Yeah, she was.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s voice breaks and he kicks himself mentally. “I didn’t realize--”

“Don’t sweat it.” Steve grins and looks at the smaller man. “Are you done with your ice cream?”

He glances pointedly at the melted mess in Bucky’s hands and takes it from him to go throw away. Bucky watched his date, and felt his heart pick up the pace because  _ wow _ , Steve was such a good man and he was just so great. Bucky couldn’t wait to get home and gush to his friends.

On their walk back home, they mostly asked one another trivial questions (“Dogs or cats?” “Would you rather spend the night with Paris Hilton, or the Kardashians?”) and laughed at stupid jokes. Finally, they arrived at their fork in the road and walked their separate ways. Bucky itched to kiss Steve good-bye, but didn’t want to seem too eager for another date. Instead he tried his hand with flirting (“Til next time, Captain.” To which Steve replied with: “Next time, huh?”)

Bucky got home and hurriedly closed his apartment door. Slipping his phone from his pocket, he hit speed dial and held his phone to his ear. His call was answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello?” Pietro’s voice was laced with sleep, and dripping with an accent.

“Are you and Wanda together right now?” Bucky grinned. He sat down on his couch and bit his lip to stop from completely squealing about said date.

“Of course. Wanda is on safety watch this week.”

“Well, is she listening?”

“Oh,” Pietro mumbled, “No, I’ll go get her.”

Bucky waited as he heard the man call for his sister over the phone, and then the sound of light and excited footsteps approach. He smiled at the rustling of Wanda flopping onto the bed with her brother. Bucky smiled, knowing that she was safe.

“What are the details?” Wanda squealed.

“Sh,” Pietro murmured. “You’re being loud--”

“His name is Steve,” Bucky started, with a beaming smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve woke up with a jolt, and automatically checked the clock. He slept in by a couple hours, but luckily it was Friday so he wasn’t supposed to open for two days. He yawned and rolled over in his bed, making the frame creak under his muscle mass. A brunette, sleeping mass laid next to him, snoring softly. He ran a hand down her back and she looked up immediately, squinty eyed and wagging her tail.

“Hey Peggy,” he smiled, getting another  _ thump thump _ of her tail hitting the mattress. The chocolate lab shoved her wet nose in to Steve’s face and gave him a modest lick on the cheek. She nuzzled into his palm next for some ear scratching, before getting up and hopping off the bed with the shake of her glossy coat.

The man knew that he’d have to take his puppy out on a walk within the hour, otherwise she’ll get antsy and tear apart the apartment. He rolled over and unplugged his phone from the charger on his night stand, before checking it. Most of the notifications were reminders for him to take his medications, or an order that he finished before Shabbat. The only notification that he really noticed and cared about was from Nat.

_ pancakes for ur thoughts? ;) _

He knew better than to think it was a request. She was commanding that he have breakfast with her to talk about his date. Even though it had been almost a week since then, Steve wasn’t exactly hurdling over chairs and tables to talk about it. Nat hadn’t even asked for him to, so he was simply waiting for the storm. This fluffy, syrupy storm.

Steve wasn’t scared. Hell, he always faced something head on, even when he was a scrawny tenth grader. This was Nat, however, and he knew that despite her love of gossiping and femininity, she could probably rip his head off with the brute strength of a gorilla. If she  _ doesn’t _ hear about Steve’s love life, she will probably sneak egg shells into his bread to sabotage his career, or even his bed to sabotage his not-yet-existent sex life.

Steve wasn’t about to jinx the first romantic relationship he’d had since college. Well, potential romantic relationship. Bucky and him hadn’t yet established whether or not they were going steady, but they were  _ definitely _ flirting over text. Call Steven Grant Rogers a hopeless romantic, but he was pretty sure that he felt something with Bucky.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Steve actually felt really warm inside when Rebecca called him “Bucky’s partner”, and he hadn’t even formally introduced himself to her yet. (He was a stranger looking into a fishbowl, basically.) Somewhere in his chest, behind his ribs and asthma, he felt a twinge of pride.

Steve was realizing this as he was drying off from a shower. He was hooking Peggy up to her leash by the time he started thinking about a different topic. She was all riled up because she knew they were going someplace fun, with food and Tasha.

“ _ Rawroo-roo-roo! _ ”

“Yes, love,” Steve says enthusiastically, grinning to the pup. He was crouched down to meet her face with his, which she ran her tongue all over lovingly. “Yes, I know!”

“ _ Roo-roo! _ ”

“Yes! Good morning!”

They were on their way to Natasha’s apartment by eleven o’clock. The usually busy street was quiet and stagnant, like it usually was the day of sabbath. Some neighborhood kids were running around the street closer to the metro station, and an older man--Steve concluded it was a grandpa--watched them closely from the stoop of an apartment building, taking puffs from a thick Churchill style cigar.

As soon as Steve got to Nat’s front porch, the door flung open and Peggy began yanking the man toward Natasha, who had her arms out for a hug. They travelled back into the small house, which was full of the smells of breakfast. Peggy situated herself on her little nest, under the circular table in Nat’s kitchen--once she was let off her leash.

“You know,” Natasha watched Steve as he started his ritual of serving himself pancakes, orange juice, and turkey sausage links. “Even watching you and Bobby--”

“Bucky.”

“Even watching you and Bucky interact at the shop was like watching an episode of _ Days of Our Lives. _ ” Her mouth perked up on one side, in a clever smirk. “You guys really hit it off.”

Right off the bat, she got down to business, as per usual. This is one of the reasons Steve hired Natasha; she was straight to the point. Steve always found it slightly frightening.

“I took him to the movies, and then we got ice cream.” Steve answered, sitting down at the table and immediately cutting a triangle of fluffy, syrupy goodness from the stack. He always loved Tasha’s pancakes, even before hiring her to bake cakes. Natasha was an old family friend of Steve’s, yet the first time they’d met was in middle school. They’d been best friends since then. “That’s it.”

“Riveting.”

“Nat--”

“Tell me something I actually want to hear. Did he suck--”

“Nat!”

“ _ Steve _ , talk to me!” she sat down across from him with a pancake and a cup of coffee. (She was always trying to keep her figure looking small yet strong.) She was practically leaning half way across the table, begging him for some sort of story.

“He and I laughed for a little bit, and we walked around,” he swallowed. “We held hands.”

“Ooh,” Natasha smirked, sipping her coffee with her brow cocked. “Rogers, you hound-dog. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Steve tried to glare at her, a smirk revealed when she put her coffee down. Steve continued the eat his pancakes--attempting anger. It didn't work because Peggy just looked up at him and thumped her tail, causing his shoulders to slump in relaxation. He drank his coffee modestly and sighed.

“His sister was very nice--actually mistook me for Bucky’s boyfriend,” he chuckled softly like it was an inside joke. All Natasha could do was watch this man dwell on the fond memory. Steve started talking with his hands. “You shoulda seen her, Nat. She's  _ tiny _ , and it looks like she has a watermelon smuggled under her shirt! Buck wasn't lying about her having triplets.”

“Why would he?”

“It was for exaggeration.”

“You already have a nickname for him?”

“What?”

Steve slowed down like he had been smacked across the face. Natasha sipped her coffee, and watched him like a therapist. She's  _ got  _ to stop doing that. She licks her lips and reaches down to pat Peggy.

“You called him ‘Buck’.” She took one last bite of her pancake before standing and taking it to the sink, to rinse off the syrup and doughy product. “It's a nickname,  _ Stevie. _ ”

*

Steve was laying on the couch, watching some skit show, and petting Peggy absentmindedly. He had spent almost the entire day like this, waiting for sunset so he could light candles and say a blessing. He didn’t have time that week to make a fresh loaf of challah, so he had to ask his neighbor for a third of theirs. All they had was a half of a stale loaf from the week before, but Steve took it gratefully.

When the sun was well past the horizon, and the candles in Steve’s apartment started to flicker out, the man took Peggy out for one last walk before bed. His phone just happened to ring as he stepped out the door. Steve’s heart danced wildly in his chest when he saw that it was Bucky calling him. Taking a deep breath, he answered with his best serious tone.

“Roger’s residence, how may I help you?”

“Hello, this is J. Buchanan Barnes.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded different from Bucky, but Steve smiled nonetheless. “Is Steve Rogers there by any chance?”

Steve couldn’t help but grin, his face washed pink. He kept his voice steady, trying to sound professional. Peggy was sniffing around a tree embedded in a mound of soil in the sidewalk, so Steve still had a good amount of time before he needs to go inside.

“I will go check, please hold.” Steve pulled the phone away from his face in time to let out the snicker that he had been keeping. Finally he returned to the call, smile in his voice, “This is Steven Grant Rogers speaking.”

“Wait, your full name is Steven  _ Grant _ Rogers?” Bucky couldn’t help himself and Steve rolled his eyes with a smile. “Was your mom a glamorous Hollywood star?”

“What’s wrong with the name ‘Grant’?”

“Well, I mean…” There was shuffling on the other end and Steve knew that he had trumped the other. “Have you ever listened to Lana Del Rey?”

“Only when Nat played her.” he frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“She pulls off that sultry, Marilyn Monroe vibe.” Bucky states.

“How does this have anything to do with my name?”

“Her real name is Lizzie Grant. I dunno,” Bucky sighed. “Just stood out in my mind, y’know?”

“I can see that.” Steve glanced over at Peggy and then up at the tree whose base she was marking. “Kind of like your name reminds me of the Great Gatsby?”

“How the hell--”

“Jay Gatsby? Jay Buchanan Barnes?”

“J is my first initial, you punk.” Bucky chuckled, and Steve smiled. He found it so easy to talk to this man, and it surprised him.

“Oh.” Steve chewed the inside of his lip and walked over to the pile that Peggy had generously dropped. “So, why’d you call me?”

“Just wonderin’ what you were up to.”

“Currently?” Steve mumbled, not even a little embarrassed. “Picking up dog poop.”

“ _ Sexy _ .” The grin was prominent in Bucky’s voice and it made Steve want to see him.

“Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are, you’re being a jerk.” Steve laughed, tying the bag of waste in his hand and then snapping his fingers at Peggy to follow him back inside.

“I guess.” Bucky huffed. “Hey, do you wanna go out tomorrow night?”

“Sure. Where?”

“I dunno,” the man mumbled. Steve led his dog into the building and checked the locks on everything downstairs before walking up the stairs back to his apartment. He herds his dog back into their home. Bucky sighed when he finally replied. “You ever been to Coney Island?”

“Buck,” Steve huffed out a chuckle, taking his shoes off and running a hand down his face. “I was practically raised five blocks from the Cyclone...but that does sound like a good idea.”

“Alright, see you at four?”

“See you at four.”

Before he could even move to hang up, Steve heard Bucky on the other end of the line. He sounded urgent. “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

There was a pause and Steve got worried. Finally, Bucky answered again, sounding nervous. “Make sure to bring your swim trunks. Ehm, it’s on a beach.”

“I know, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do me a favor and share this story! It can also be found on Wattpad if you're feeling generous and want to vote on it for me. ;P


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky swallowed hard, turning his phone off and shoving it into his pocket. He heard the door slide open behind him and he turned to see Wanda curiously step out. She smiled and wandered over to him. She knocked his side gently, to which he smiled and pulled her into a side-hug. Her brown waves were pulled back into a tidy braid, draped over her scrawny shoulder.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked innocently, her words wilting with her fading Eastern European accent. Behind them, from somewhere in the get together, Pietro could be heard laughing.

“You can guess who.” Bucky smirked, looking at her. She smiled knowingly, and reached up to yank a silver hair from his long hair. They stayed out on the balcony of the house, looking out at the sea. The lights from Coney Island cast orange lights across the beach to them, and left blue sparkles in their eyes.

“I can tell he is good for you, James.” Wanda stares up at him, a relaxed smile hanging on her lips. “You’ve been smiling so much more, and texting us at midnight less.”

“Maybe I’m just doing better.” Bucky rebutted, stubbornly. Wanda giggled.

“What are you guys doing out here?” The door slid open again and Pietro had his head poking out into the chilly air. A clear plastic cup of beer was in his hand, and he had a grin on his pale face. “Don’t mope at my party! You know the rules!”

Wanda responded with a snarky remark in a language that Bucky assumed was Sokovian. He could only understand enough to laugh, because they were speaking so fast. The twins threw petty insults back and forth before Wanda walked inside, threatening to beat her brother up.

Bucky laughed and looked at the amusement park down the beach. The violent roar of the coaster was muddled by the distance. The man yawned and turned, heading back into the small house.

*

Natasha was walking out of the bakery doors when Bucky arrived and he smiled at her. She smirked and stopped to say hi, pulling on her jacket. He stopped, not expecting her to make conversation.

“I thought you guys were closed today?” Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I was doing some prep work for some orders that go out tomorrow. Frosting, fondant, y’know…” Nat shrugged. “Hey! Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Bucky’s chest constricted. He could only imagine that she was about to say something bad, or play the mom friend even. She crossed her arms as if trying to keep warm. Now that Bucky thought about it, she seemed a little thinner than the last time he saw her.

“Steve’s birthday is next week,” she started. Her lips quirked up as if a joke had popped into her head suddenly. “I want to throw a surprise party for him. So, this is me inviting you to said party.”

“Where will it be at? What day?”

“It’s on Independence Day, actually.”

Bucky snorted and nods.

“It’ll be at a penthouse on Brighton. Our buddy, Tony, owns it. I’m great friends with his girlfriend.” She practically brags about the feat and Bucky nods again. “Oh, and bring friends!”

“Will do.” Bucky smiles, already adding Wanda and Pietro to his invite list. “Anything I should bring?”

“Um…” Natasha thinks about before hurriedly pulling a business card from her back pocket. “No, but I can text you to let you know.”

“Okay.” The two agree and part ways.

When Steve finally gets down to the ground floor and opens the bakery door. He looked disheveled and like he had just woken up. He smiled and stepped to the side to let Bucky in.

“Hey, sorry,” he laughed in embarrassment. “I ended up sleeping later than I planned to.”

“You’re good.” Bucky followed the other through the bakery, and up some stairs in a hallway in the very back of the building. Steve stopped and looked down at his friend.

“Are you allergic to dogs?”

“No,” he answered. “You asked me about my allergies and continued to threaten poisoning me a few days ago.”

“That’s right.” Steve chuckled, continuing up the stairs. He led Bucky to a small one bedroom apartment. As soon as the door opened, a chocolate coloured dog came to greet the two. The dog was just under the size that Bucky was used to retrievers being and she was loud. “This is Peggy, careful about playing with her because she will nibble. She’s still a puppy.”

Ah. That explains the size.

“Make yourself at home. There’s a pitcher of tea in the fridge, and a remote on the coffee table. I’m gonna shower and get dressed.” Steve explained. Bucky felt his entire abdomen fill with the small flutter of butterflies. He nods and sets his backpack down on the floor beside the door. Steve wanders off to the bathroom, so Bucky sits down on the couch.

Peggy hopped up on to the sofa beside him as soon as he gets comfortable, and makes it her responsibility to lick at his jaw. Bucky laughs at the tickle, and the soft  _ skch _ of her tongue on his unshaved face. He pushes the dog off and rubs at her neck and ear fur, to distract her. Peggy made a satisfied whine slash growl and laid her head down. Every once and a while, her eyes glanced at the bathroom door and Bucky felt a strong fondness for the pup.

Finally the water turned off, and she lifted her head. Her ears stood at attention. Bucky smiled and scratched her side--causing her to roll over, once again calm. This didn’t stop her from letting out a small  _ boof _ .

Steve was out of the bathroom, and dressed in a pair of swim trunks and a tee shirt, a couple minutes later. Bucky could see his skin tinged pink just under his collar, and stood. Peggy hopped down and trotted between the two, her tongue lolling out from between her snout and jaw.

“Sorry,” Steve smiled down at the dog, his nose dusted with pink. “No puppies on the beach during the season, Peggy. I’ll bring you a souvenir, though.”

He squats down and rubs her ears gently, earning a euphoric thumping of her tail. Bucky smiled, happy that Steve had made such a great life for himself despite his past. As soon as Steve stood up and stretched, the two men were out the door. It took three minutes extra as Peggy nosed the door open before it clicked shut and Steve had to nudge her snout back into the apartment.

Bucky and Steve chuckled to themselves as they made their way down the sidewalk. The sun kissed their skin through the leaves of the trees in parks and courtyards. Blots of light highlighted Steve’s eyelashes as well as each and every freckle on his neck and nose. Bucky hadn’t even noticed them until then. He flushed and glanced away, cursing his keen attention to detail, and the sun, for making this man look like an angel.

“Peg’s such a troublemaker.” Steve turned his head to Bucky and it felt almost as intimate as sitting face to face on a sofa, knees knocking. Bucky smiled and shrugged.

“I’ve never really been a pet guy,” he pursed his lips. “I had a bearded dragon when I was 13, but then I had to get rid of him because Rebecca was actually allergic to the crickets and stuff. I’m not good with taking care of animals either... But, after that I just never got around to getting another pet--I’m kind of saving it for a more serious setting like a family.”

“That sucks…” Steve chews his cheek and looks down before smiling. “You could get a pet rock. Or a plant.”

“C’mon, man--”

“Actually,” Steve looks up at Bucky and claps a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a good idea! You could get like...bamboo, or a cactus. Something that retains water.”

“I’d probably manage to kill an ant farm, Steve.” They both laugh, continuing down the block, until they reached the stairs to the subway. They got through and on to the correct train, and settled down in a chilly car. Nothing out of the usual. Not even the man playing a keyboard in the middle seats, keeping to himself. Steve stretched to throw a five dollar bill into the jar at the keyboardist’s feet, wishing him a good day. He never ceases to amaze Bucky.

“You’re such a boy scout, Steve Rogers.” He teases, and is met with a jab to the arm. Steve is smiling but in a sad, nostalgic way.

“He’s a vet,” Steve nods to the musician. “My buddy, Sam, runs a support group for people who served, with PTSD and all that. That guy came to a meeting once, but didn’t come again after that.

“My mom raised me to believe that everyone deserves help no matter what. Someone push you around on the playground? That doesn’t mean you can’t help the fella read a passage for his homework.”

“You did that, huh?” Bucky watched the other with wonderment. He was in awe at how generous the man was.

“The guy was dyslexic,” Steve shrugged. “Just ‘cause he pushed me to the ground, doesn’t mean he should suffer from something he can’t control. I’d like to think that he would’ve gotten my inhaler for me, had I gone into a fit. The guy is really successful now, actually”

“Your mother raised you to be great as her.”

“Shucks,” he scoffs and rubs his neck, modesty radiating from his cheeks. “Thanks, Buck. I was a little rascal on the playground too, though. I used to fight back, but I could never win seeing as I was a third of my current size.”

“Sheesh…” Bucky laughed.

“So, what about you?” The blonde looks at him, and leans back. “Were you a saint in school?”

“I guess. I was mostly chasing girls with worms, and staying at home to study in high school.” Bucky snorts, crossing his arms.

“Introvert?”

“Overbearing parents,” He sighed.

Steve didn’t pry. He didn’t want to upset his friend. As soon as silence falls over the two men, the train stops and they get up. Before them was the amusement park, screaming greeting them from the Cyclone.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working as hard as I can between classes and depression spikes. I hope it's all right for now.
> 
> If you could do me a huge favor, please share this story! It can be found on Wattpad too, if you wanna vote on it. :D


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